Hold on Tight!
by AkariSakumi
Summary: My first countryXreader fic. Song fic written for Iggy's birthday. EnglandXArtsy!Attitude!Reader. It's good, I promise! Rated T for language, alcohol, and cuz I'm paranoid.


Hi everybody! Kay, I know I haven't been working on my other stuff like I should be, for those of you following me. But I had to write something for Iggy's birthday, so here it is! My first Hetalia fic, as well as being my first countryXreader and my first song fic and oneshot. Hooray for firsts! The song is 'Revolution' by The Veronicas.

Disclaimer: I don't own Hetalia, any of its characters, the song, or you. You belong to Arthur now.

Heheh, drunk reader is a silly reader.

Edit: Okay, so I had to remove the lyrics to the song or risk getting in trouble. So I've replaced their spots with stars. Happy reading!

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EnglandXArtsy!Attitude!Reader

**Hold on Tight**

Arthur's POV

The halls were filled with the usual clamor of chattering students and locker doors, the noise making me sigh tiredly as I gathered my things for morning classes. Just then, a rather distinct set of voices rang through the halls, effectively silencing them for a moment.

"Gilbert Beilschmidt! Give me those _right now_ or I'll give you old man wrinkles to match that hair of yours!"

"Kesesese! Not a chance, Fraulein! And you'll have to catch me first!"

Not a few seconds later,said albino came racing down the hall, bundles of papers flying from his hands, with _her_ hot on his heels. (E/C) eyes flashing and spitting fury as usual, _(f/n)_ _(L/n)_ was so focused on catching the out-of-control self-proclaimed Prussian, that she failed to notice the papers scattering all over the floors.

Picking up a sheet near me, I couldn't help but smile at its contents, rather than giggle at it like many of the others around me. The page contained several photographs obviously taken during our class trip to the beach last summer, and all centered around the fire-spitting girl that'd just sprinted through a good portion of the school. She must've not been aware of the camera-holders, for rather than images of the temperamental girl chasing someone (read: Gilbert or Alfred) down, they'd managed to catch her being sweet and, dare I even think it, cute. Like the one of her mumbling along to whatever music was feeding through her earphones, or giggling with some friends over a photo album, or the one that'd caught her mid-sketch, her tongue poking out of the side of her mouth in concentration... I stuffed the paper into my locker, shutting it quickly before marching off to class, my face burning.

Short time-skip brought to you by candid photos!

Reader's POV

I shot another glare at the albino two seats down, who was trying to undo any wrinkles on his still-tender skin I might've inflicted for those _mortifying_ photocopies he'd spread around. Yeah, so I wasn't the hell-raiser I acted like, but heck. It's fun to blow up and act pissed. Just ask Lovino. Plus, as a sort-of 'tacked on' member of the infamous Bad Touch Trio, we all had reputations to keep, and those pictures were embarassing, dammit!

I'll admit, sometimes my accociation with my friends, aka the three biggest pervs on campus, was sometimes annoying and got in my way. Most girls my age didn't want anything to do with us unless they already knew us from before, like Elizaveta, and don't even get me started on the guys the first couple years I was here. Some of the lowest in the school had assumed I had no standards to be friends with those three. Boy, did they learn otherwise in a hurry.

"(name)? Dude, I'm talkin' to you!" an obnoxiously familiar voice cut through my thoughts. Giving the blonde to my right an uncaring glance, I asked coolly, "Yeah, what do ya want, Jones?" The boy just grinned.

"Hey, you remember Artie's birthday is this weekend, right?"

"You idiot, his birthday is the Tuesday after!" I snapped before I could stop myself.

"Hmm, now how is it that you can remember that better than me?" Alfred asked, a sly smirk forming on his face.

'Don't blush. Don't stutter. Don't say anything!' I fractically chanted to myself, only scowling outwardly. Alfred just chuckled knowingly. 'Shit! He knows!' Ok, yes, I have a big crush on Arthur Kirkland. What of it? We've known each other since High School, and he's one of the few people who's nice to me in spite of my own attitude. And, though he can blow his top as well as I can, he's surprisingly tolerant of my friends, including the doofus in front of me, and his older brothers.

"Well anyway, I'm throwing him a surprise party Saturday. You should come!"

"Yeah right, Al." I scoffed. "Don't think I've forgotten what you did the last time I went to one of your wild-ass parties." I turned back to my book.

"But (name)! You gotta come! How can I help you with Artie if you're not there?"

"Oh really?" I asked dubiously, raising an eyebrow at his (ineffective, _ineffective_ dammit!) pleading, kicked puppy face. "And just what do you mean by that?"

"Oh come on, (name)! It's obvious to everyone but Captain Eyebrows himself that you're head-over-heels for him-."

"Ok, ok! Shut your trap, would ya!" I snapped quickly. "I'll frickin be there!"

The blondes grin grew almost blinding, and he whipped out his phone as he stood up when the bell signaled the end of class. "Hey dude," he said into the receiver as he walked towards the door. "great news! The party at (name)'s place is totally on!"

"What?! Al, what the fu-?!" He was gone before I even had a chance to protest. 'Shit!' It was definitely gonna be a wild week.

Time-skip brought to you by MERICA!

It _was_ a crazy week, to a point that I ended up enlisting the help of the BTT on Saturday morning to prepare for 'Alfreds' party. Not that they were a lot of help _after_ the truckload of people showed up on my doorstep, the bespectacled blonde in the lead. Thank whatever powers that be for good college housing. After that, it was a chaotic blur; most of the guests had thought to bring enough drinks to party, though not enough to cause any real trouble, thankfully.

Hey, I like to party as much as the next college girl, but I'm not a trouble-maker! Much. The burger-lover had also brought karaoke stuff, and currently he and Gil, both tipsy, were going through that one song by MCR. You know, 'Na Na Na' or something? Which was a fairly good choice, cause Al's tone-deaf, and Gil's rough voice can't always handle actual singing.

"Hey, let's get our awesome hostess up here, eh?" Gil's voice blared out from the speakers as his song partner tried to coax more cheers from the 'crowd' for their little number. Having enjoyed a couple drinks myself, I was feeling a little bolder than usual.

"Ah, what the hell. Gimme that mic; I'll show you boys how it's done." I said with a grin, earning a few catcalls and whistles from the slightly inebriated partygoers. "Al, put on that one song. You know the one." I called to the blonde, who flashed a grin that matched mine before doing as I asked. Looking over the people who'd shown up, my eyes finally locked with a familiar pair of nerve-inducing, bright green irises belonging to the Englishman-of-the-hour, who was sitting rather close despite his reluctance to join the festivities. He was still working on the one drink I'd handed him when he'd arrived, and didn't seem inclined to move from his spot. I shot him a smile as the first guitar riffs played, raising the mic to my lips and leaping into the lyrics.

Short time-skip showed up at the awesome party!

Arthur's POV

I shook my head bemusedly at the scene around me as I helped (name) clean up, despite her protests that she could handle it. Everyone had stumbled off to their own dorms or houses, but for her close friends who'd simply passed out in various places and positions in the living room, where she was currently gathering thrash, while I handled the kitchen area. Which I'd just finished with, actually.

"Excuse me, love, but I've finished in here. You need any help out there?" I asked from the doorway leading into the living area. I couldn't help but chuckle at the sight that greeted me. (name) was seated on the floor just in front of the couch Gilbert was sprawled across, the bottle and glass-laden coffee table right in front of her. She was polishing off the leftovers of what I recognized as her favorite drink, looking at her friends and giggling. It was then that she noticed me standing in the doorway.

"Lookie, Arthur! Al's cuddling with aspeaker! That can't be comf- comfor- good for his neck." She finished, downing the last of her drink before setting the glass down loudly, making the snowy-haired man behind her grunt in surprise. "And this guy!" She added, twisting around to poke his cheek. "He's drooling on the pillow! Hey, that's mine! Not for your spit, Gilly!" She suddenly said, pulling said cushion out from under the boy's head with an adorable, pouting frown. Once she had it, (name) let out a huge yawn, not even bothering to cover it up.

"Alright, young lady. I think your drinks have caught up with you. Off to bed!" I said, starting towards the girl in case she needed help.

"But I can't do that yet! I gotta help you clean up! You're the birthday boy, you're not supposed to clean your own party!" (name) argued halfheartedly, getting to her feet slowly before tottering around in an attempt to keep cleaning, still muttering. "But you're not, cuz it's not yer b-day yet, but y'are cuz it's yer party and... and..." She trailed off, sinking back to the ground, as the task of sorting her thoughts, speech, and motions was too much to handle at the moment. I couldn't help but laugh a little, scooping the girl up off the ground despite her mumbled protests.

"Now love, the mess can wait till tomorrow. It's time to get some sleep now. Aren't you tired at all?"

"Well, yeah but..." (name) trailed off, looking distracted as I carried her off to her room. "Hey, you're always so nice to me, Art. Do I ever make you mad when I act all mean'n'stuff?" That question almost made me stop in my tracks. Where on earth had that come from?

Looking down at the girl in my arms, I could clearly see behind the unfocused vision that this truly bothered her. I gave her a reassuring smile. "No, love; it doesn't bother me. I know what you're really like under that shell of yours, so don't worry about it."

(name) seemed happy with my answer, a slow smile settling on her features as she drifted off. I somehow managed to open the door to her room without dropping her, and she didn't even stir as I settled her underneath the covers. When I finally straightened up enough to take in my surroundings, I gasped in surprised and amazement.

Her walls were papered with drawings: pencil, charcoal, pastels. All sketches ranging from rough and quickly done to detailed and time-consuming, all wonderful to look at. I knew she was nearly always drawing, but she never showed anyone her personal sketchpad. These must be from that same book, nearly all of them were of the people who surrounded her: family, friends, classmates. But one thing stood out very clearly as I looked around: many of these sketches were of me.

I felt my ears growing warm as I thought about the implications of (name) covering her walls with her drawings of me, several of them quite old judging from the dates on them. It was true that I'd grown quite fond of the girl since Alfred had introduced us back in our tenth year. She'd truly captured my heart when she won that competition with her painting just before graduation, and I'd been overjoyed to learn we'd be attending the same University. But could these drawings possibly mean she felt the same? Could I risk telling her how I felt? I certainly recieved my answer a moment later, when I'd turned full-circle to face the wall by her bed again. There, almost right in front of me, was a very recent-looking picture of, not just me, but the both of us.

I felt my face explode in heat. S-she'd drawn us k-k-kissing! Well, if that wasn't a good sign, I didn't know what would be. In all honesty, I was shocked she drew something like this at all. She didn't strike anyone as the romantic type, in personality and in the company she kept. Apparently I was wrong about that. Next thing I knew, I was hurrying out the door, though I did remember to quietly shut it behind me as I left. I had some thinking to do.

Time-skip presented to you by an Absolutely Invincible British Gentleman! *MultipleShots*

Reader POV

I let out a heavy sigh as I made my way to my locker. It's Tuesday now, and for some reason, Arthur's been avoiding me since the party. I honestly can't remember what happened after he insisted on helping me clean up. I hope I didn't do something to make him mad at me or somethi- Oh! There's something on my locker! I quickly unfolded the lined-paper, absentmindedly dialing the code on my lock. I quick glance at the page quickly stopped that motion.

_(name),_

_ I would like for you to meet me under that tree you're always sitting under in the park this evening. I have something important I need to tell you._

_Arthur _

'Crap. Crap, crap, oh crap! What'd I do this time?! What's he got to tell me? Is he mad at me? That he doesn't wanna be friends anymore?! That he doesn't wanna see me anymore...?' Yeah, my brain pretty much went into overdrive. Don't act like you wouldn't freak out in my position. At least a little. Okay, maybe I could've handled it a little better! Anyway, I suppose all I can do is NOT panic, and wait and see. Damn if this wouldn't be on my list of longest days ever.

Yeah, the whole 'not panicking' thing isn't working as well as I'd like, now that I'm at the designated meeting spot, standing under the huge branches of the oldest Oak on campus. "Dammit. Where the heck is he?" I muttered to myself, arms crossed to prevent myself from fumbling with my fingers.

"Where's who, love?" a smooth, wonderfu-FAMILIAR accented voice replied right behind me.

"GAH! Don't DO that, dammit!" I half-yelled before catching myself. Considering I'd probably made him mad at me somehow, yelling at him _might_ not be the best course of action. Yeah. "O-oh, sorry about that." I mumbled, finding my shoes rather interesting at the moment.

"It's quite alright." Arthur chuckled, making me jerk my head up to look at him. Wait, he _wasn't_ mad at me? Oh.

"So, what did you want to talk about?" And with that question, he went from smiling to looking nervous like I'd flipped a switch. What the heck?

"Oh. Well, er, there's actually something I've wanted to say to you for a while, but I was worried about what your answer would be and... and... Oh bloody... how should I say this, erm..." He took a deep breath before looking me straight in the eye. I remained silent, waiting. "(name), we've known each other for several years now, and during that time I feel like I've gotten to know you pretty well." A small smile came back to his face. "You cover up that peace-loving, sentimental girl with a temper that outdoes even my own. You have high standards for those around you, but once your friendship is won, you never hesitate to help someone, always willing to lend a listening ear." Arthur's smile grew at my confused expression. Just where was he going with this?

"But you still find ways to surprise me, (name). Like on Saturday. I had no idea that you could sing as well as draw. And your drawings!" At this, I couldn't help but tense. What about them? "They're amazing! I never imagined you were the type to paper your walls with pictures of your friends and family." At this, Arthur chuckled a little, stepping just a little closer as he looked back at me. "It was one of your pictures in particular that gave me the courage to tell you that..." He took a breath, his eyes shut tight as he steeled himself.

"I love you, (name). I have for a while now." I froze, my thoughts once again all over the place. 'He what? How did I not notice this?! Oh crap, he saw the drawing!' I quickly pulled myself together; I had to respond, dammit! But instead, my brain jumped to his comment on my singing. I smiled as I stepped towards the still-nervous young man in front of me. The end of that song rather fit this situation, I think.

My smile grew as I grabbed hold of Arthur's shirt collar in my hands, startling him into looking at me. "_Hold on tight._" I sang softly, before pulling his head down to plant my lips firmly on his in a kiss.

Just when he managed to recover from his shock enough to kiss me back, I pulled away a bit, a huge smile on both of our faces. "I love you too, Arthur. Happy birthday."


End file.
